When He Would Have His Verses Read
In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse
The holy incantation of a verse;
But when that men have both well drunk, and fed,
Let my enchantments then be sung or read.
When laurel spirts i' th' fire, and when the hearth
Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth;
When up the Thyrse is raised, and when the sound
Of sacred orgies, flies A round, A round;
When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine,
Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sailor Son
When you come home I'll not be round
To welcome you.
They'll take you to a grassy mound
So neat and new;
Where I'll be sleeping--O so sound!
The ages through.
I'll not be round to broom the hearth,
To feed the chicks;
And in the wee room of your birth
Your bed to fix;
Rose room that knew your baby mirth
Your tiny tricks.
I'll not be round . . . The garden still
With bees will hum;
To cheerful you the throstle's bill
Will not be dumb;
The rambler rose will overspill
When you will come.
Bird, bee and bloom, they'll greet you all
With scented sound;
Yet though the joy of your footfall
Will thrill the ground
Your mother with her old grey shawl--
Will not be round.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Ode To Sir Clipsby Crew
Here we securely live, and eat
The cream of meat;
And keep eternal fires,
By which we sit, and do divine,
As wine
And rage inspires.
If full, we charm; then call upon
Anacreon
To grace the frantic Thyrse:
And having drunk, we raise a shout
Throughout,
To praise his verse.
Then cause we Horace to be read,
Which sung or said,
A goblet, to the brim,
Of lyric wine, both swell'd and crown'd,
Around
We quaff to him.
Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours
In wine and flowers;
And make the frolic year,
The month, the week, the instant day
To stay
The longer here.
--Come then, brave Knight, and see the cell
Wherein I dwell;
And my enchantments too;
Which love and noble freedom is:--
And this
Shall fetter you.
Take horse, and come; or be so kind
To send your mind,
Though but in numbers few:--
And I shall think I have the heart
Or part
Of Clipsby Crew.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Sitting by the Fire
Barren Age and withered World!
Oh! the dying leaves,
Like a drizzling rain,
Falling round the roof -
Pattering on the pane!
Frosty Age and cold, cold World!
Ghosts of other days,
Trooping past the faded fire,
Flit before the gaze.
Now the wind goes soughing wild
O'er the whistling Earth;
And we front a feeble flame,
Sitting round the hearth!
Sitting by the fire,
Watching in its glow,
Ghosts of other days
Trooping to and fro.
Oh, the nights - the nights we've spent,
Sitting by the fire,
Cheerful in its glow;
Twenty summers back -
Twenty years ago!
If the days were days of toil
Wherefore should we mourn;
There were shadows near the shine,
Flowers with the thorn?
And we still can recollect
Evenings spent in mirth -
Fragments of a broken life,
Sitting round the hearth:
Sitting by the fire,
Cheerful in its glow,
Twenty summers back -
Twenty years ago.
Beauty stooped to bless us once,
Sitting by the fire,
Happy in its glow;
Forty summers back -
Forty years ago.
Words of love were interchanged,
Maiden hearts we stole;
And the light affection throws
Slept on every soul.
Oh, the hours went flying past -
Hours of priceless worth;
But we took no note of Time,
Sitting round the hearth:
Sitting by the fire,
Happy in its glow,
Forty summers back -
Forty years ago.
Gleesome children were we not?
Sitting by the fire,
Ruddy in its glow,
Sixty summers back -
Sixty years ago.
Laughing voices filled the room;
Oh, the songs we sung,
When the evenings hurried by -
When our hearts were young!
Pleasant faces watched the flame -
Eyes illumed with mirth -
And we told some merry tales,
Sitting round the hearth:
Sitting by the fire,
Ruddy in its glow,
Sixty summers back -
Sixty years ago.
Barren Age and withered World!
Oh, the dying leaves,
Like a drizzling rain,
Falling round the roof -
Pattering on the pane!
Frosty Age and cold, cold World!
Ghosts of other days,
Trooping past the faded fire,
Flit before the gaze.
Now the wind goes soughing wild
O'er the whistling Earth;
And we front a feeble flame,
Sitting round the hearth:
Sitting by the fire,
Watching, in its glow,
Ghosts of other days
Trooping to and fro!
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Live Merrily,and To Trust To Good Verses
Now is the time for mirth;
Nor cheek or tongue be dumb;
For with [the] flowery earth
The golden pomp is come.
The golden pomp is come;
For now each tree does wear,
Made of her pap and gum,
Rich beads of amber here.
Now reigns the Rose, and now
Th' Arabian dew besmears
My uncontrolled brow,
And my retorted hairs.
Homer, this health to thee!
In sack of such a kind,
That it would make thee see,
Though thou wert ne'er so blind
Next, Virgil I'll call forth,
To pledge this second health
In wine, whose each cup's worth
An Indian commonwealth.
A goblet next I'll drink
To Ovid; and suppose
Made he the pledge, he'd think
The world had all one nose.
Then this immensive cup
Of aromatic wine,
Catullus! I quaff up
To that terse muse of thine.
Wild I am now with heat:
O Bacchus! cool thy rays;
Or frantic I shall eat
Thy Thyrse, and bite the Bays!
Round, round, the roof does run;
And being ravish'd thus,
Come, I will drink a tun
To my Propertius.
Now, to Tibullus next,
This flood I drink to thee;
--But stay, I see a text,
That this presents to me.
Behold! Tibullus lies
Here burnt, whose small return
Of ashes scarce suffice
To fill a little urn.
Trust to good verses then;
They only will aspire,
When pyramids, as men,
Are lost i' th' funeral fire.
And when all bodies meet
In Lethe to be drown'd;
Then only numbers sweet
With endless life are crown'd.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Live Merrily, And To Trust To Good Verses
Now is the time for mirth,
Nor cheek or tongue be dumb;
For with the flow'ry earth
The golden pomp is come.
The golden pomp is come;
For now each tree does wear,
Made of her pap and gum,
Rich beads of amber here.
Now reigns the rose, and now
Th' Arabian dew besmears
My uncontrolled brow
And my retorted hairs.
Homer, this health to thee,
In sack of such a kind
That it would make thee see
Though thou wert ne'er so blind.
Next, Virgil I'll call forth
To pledge this second health
In wine, whose each cup's worth
An Indian commonwealth.
A goblet next I'll drink
To Ovid, and suppose,
Made he the pledge, he'd think
The world had all one nose.
Then this immensive cup
Of aromatic wine,
Catullus, I quaff up
To that terse muse of thine.
Wild I am now with heat;
O Bacchus! cool thy rays!
Or frantic, I shall eat
Thy thyrse, and bite the bays.
Round, round the roof does run;
And being ravish'd thus,
Come, I will drink a tun
To my Propertius.
Now, to Tibullus, next,
This flood I drink to thee;
But stay, I see a text
That this presents to me.
Behold, Tibullus lies
Here burnt, whose small return
Of ashes scarce suffice
To fill a little urn.
Trust to good verses then;
They only will aspire,
When pyramids, as men,
Are lost i' th' funeral fire.
And when all bodies meet,
In Lethe to be drown'd,
Then only numbers sweet
With endless life are crown'd.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Can Read Between The Lines
Roy orbison/joe melson
Girl I got your letter telling me youre coming home tonight
The lines were sweet and tender signed with all your love
Pretty words to make me feel alright
Then I read it over I got the feeling youre not completely mine
I held it to my chest, where you always rest
And I cried cos I can read between the lines
Between the lines I see youre making believe
But I cant help it, I still want you
Between the lines its plain youre playing that old game
But I still love you, and I cant change
Baby Ill be waiting at the downtown station right on time
Reaching out to hold you, the way I always do
Ill pretend that you are only mine
And while Im loving you I cant read between the lines
While Im loving you I cant read between the lines
Transcribed by the teenking
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Visionary Portrait
I.
As by his lonely hearth he sate,
The shadow of a welcome dream
Pass'd o'er his heart,--disconsolate
His home did seem;
Comfort in vain was spread around,
For something still was wanting found.
II.
Therefore he thought of one who might
For ever in his presence stay;
Whose dream should be of him by night,
Whose smile should be for him by day;
And the sweet vision, vague and far,
Rose on his fancy like a star.
II.
'Let her be young, yet not a child,
Whose light and inexperienced mirth
Is all too wingéd and too wild
For sober earth,--
Too rainbow-like such mirth appears,
And fades away in misty tears.
IV.
'Let youth's fresh rose still gently bloom
Upon her smooth and downy cheek,
Yet let a shadow, not of gloom,
But soft and meek,
Tell that some sorrow she hath known,
Tho' not a sorrow of her own.
V.
'And let her eyes be of the grey,
The soft grey of the brooding dove,
Full of the sweet and tender ray
Of modest love;
For fonder shows that dreamy hue
Than lustrous black or heavenly blue.
VI.
'Let her be full of quiet grace,
No sparkling wit with sudden glow
Bright'ning her purely chisell'd face
And placid brow;
Not radiant to the stranger's eye,--
A creature easily pass'd by;
VII.
'But who, once seen, with untold power
For ever haunts the yearning heart,
Raised from the crowd that self-same hour
To dwell apart,
All sainted and enshrined to be
The idol of our memory!
VIII.
'And oh! let Mary be her name
It hath a sweet and gentle sound
At which no glories dear to fame
Come crowding round,
But which the dreaming heart beguiles
With holy thoughts and household smiles
IX.
'With peaceful meetings, welcomes kind,
And love, the same in joy and tears,
And gushing intercourse of mind
Thro' faithful years;
Oh! dream of something half divine,
Be real--be mortal--and be mine!'
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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November Fifth
Anniversary of the Loss of H.M.S. Tweed
Oh, what relief to gaze on yonder sky,
Where all is holy, calm, and purely bright!
Within, the sound of mirth and revelry
Startles the timid ear of sober night.
And eyes are bright and silver voices thrill,
As the harp echoes through the glittering hall;
The jest is there that wakes the laugh at will,
And mirth has cast her fairy spell o'er all.
I turn, fair spirit of light! where peaceful thou
Art shining in unatler'd majesty;
The thin clouds float across thy placid brow,
And catch its silver beam in passing by.
To-night!—oh! on this night—nor many years
Have wasted, since in sad regret and pain,
Upon the wave, the sound of woe, and tears,
And frantic pray'rs arose—arose in vain!
Thy light was shrouded then in deepest gloom;
On that dark coast no friendly radiance shone
To warn the victims of their gaping tomb—
Despair and death and horror reign'd alone!
Shine on, shine on, thou treacherous planet still;
Gild with thy beams the now untroubled wave:
Alas! thou fair and fatal cause of ill,
Thy smiles are lovely—but too late to save!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Round And Round And Round
round and round and round and round and round we go
trying so hard to get a hold of everyone here
we've got to show how much we love them all
we squeak with idiot fake surprise
flap our hands and flutter our eyes
and lap up all their stupid lies
we've got to love them all
and I really don't know why we do it like this
imitation smiles and how 'it's wonderful to be her
i'm really not sure what we're so scared we'll mis
so round and round and round and round and round we go
hanging on every shape they throw
it's strange the way we can't say no
until we love them all...
so we laugh at every stupid joke
and smoke and choke and point and poke
and gag on countless lines...
how much we love them all!
and I really don't know why we do it like this
imitation smiles and how 'it's wonderful to be her
i'm really not sure what we're so scared we'll mis
maybe it's the sex with the drugs and the fools
or maybe it's the promise of belief?
maybe it's the pleasure and the pain of the cruel
or maybe it's the promise of relief?
and I know that we've said it so many times
'once more and never again'
but however many times that we've said it before
once more is never the end...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Round & Round & Round
Round and round and round and round and round we go
Trying so hard to get a hold of everyone here
We've got to show how much we love them all
We squeak with idiot fake surprise
Flap our hands and flutter our eyes
And lap up all their stupid lies
We've got to love them all
And i really don't know why we do it like this
Imitation smiles and how "it's wonderful to be her
I'm really not sure what we're so scared we'll mis
So round and round and round and round and round we go
Hanging on every shape they throw
It's strange the way we can't say no
Until we love them all...
So we laugh at every stupid joke
And smoke and choke and point and poke
And gag on countless lines...
How much we love them all!
And i really don't know why we do it like this
Imitation smiles and how "it's wonderful to be her
I'm really not sure what we're so scared we'll miss
Maybe it's the sex with the drugs and the fools
Or maybe it's the promise of belief?
Maybe it's the pleasure and the pain of the cruel
Or maybe it's the promise of relief?
And i know that we've said it so many times
"once more and never again"
But however many times that we've said it before
Once more is never the end...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To His Honoured And Most Ingenious Friendmr Charles Cotton
For brave comportment, wit without offence,
Words fully flowing, yet of influence,
Thou art that man of men, the man alone
Worthy the public admiration;
Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,
And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight;
Tell'st when a verse springs high; how understood
To be, or not, born of the royal blood
What state above, what symmetry below,
Lines have, or should have, thou the best can show:--
For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be,
Not so much known, as to be loved of thee:--
Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays
Be less another's laurel, than thy praise.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XLIX: Thou Leaden Brain
Thou leaden brain, which censur'st what I write,
And say'st my lines be dull and do not move,
I marvel not thou feel'st not my delight,
Which never felt'st my fiery touch of love.
But thou, whose pen hath like a pack-horse serv'd,
Whose stomach unto gall hath turn'd thy food,
Whose senses, like poor prisoners, hunger-starv'd,
Whose grief hath parch'd thy body, dried thy blood,
Thou which hast scorned life and hated death,
And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,
Thou which hast bann'd thy thoughts and curs'd thy breath
With thousand plagues, more than in Purgatory,
Thou thus whose spirit Love in his fire refines,
Come thou, and read, admire, applaud my lines.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Lightning Rose
[note: the first verse is, mysteriously, not sung on the record.]
A song for a girl who lives for the future
A song of the fremen [sic] camps near the river
After the fall -- before the beginning
We build the watchfire every night
We control the water flow
We control the power from fusion
Reactor #12
The walls of the city crumble
I would sing a song fifty feet long
Sweet breezes on pine beaches
The sound of fire
Let it shine let it shine let it shine
Shut down the city lights I want to be with my lady
Build up the watchfires turn down the sun
I been too long in the green fields of rapture
I been too long without bein on the run
Carry the fire from the heart of your lover
Carry the fire where the wild things run
Theres a monster lurking deep in the forest
Lets go and get him when the mornin comes
Rose I need you
Rose cant go without your love
Rose I need you
I cant go without you
I wont go without your love
Oooh rose do you remember all the dances
Remember the miracles and all the crazy chances we took on
Love, love, love -- I want to go beyond
Love, love, love ------ lets go
Inside the walls of forbidden halls
Beyond everything Ive ever hoped or sung
Carry the fire -- beyond all desire
Carry the fire -- brighter than the sun
Rose
Lightning rose
Rose
I wont leave without you
I cant go without your love
Love is a fire in the rose
She rocks me
Shut down the city lights I want to be with my baby
Build up the watchfires turn down the sun
Rose I need to feel you near me
Lightning rose I need you to be strong
Come together warm around the watchfire
Come together till the mornin sun
Open the floodgates and let loose the waters
Stand by the banks and watch the water run
Carry the fire to the heart of the darkness
Carry the fire each and every one
Carry the fire in your hands if you need to
Carry the fire the fire the fire
Let it shine let it shine
Look into the night sky
The walls fall before you
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To His Honoured and Most Ingenious Friend Mr. Charles Cotton
For brave comportment, wit without offence,
Words fully flowing, yet of influence:
Thou art that man of men, the man alone,
Worthy the public admiration:
Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,
And giv'st our numbers euphony, and weight.
Tell'st when a verse springs high, how understood
To be, or not born of the Royal blood.
What state above, what symmetry below,
Lines have, or should have, thou the best canst show.
For which (my Charles) it is my pride to be,
Not so much known, as to be loved by thee.
Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays,
Be less another's laurel, than thy praise.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Round & Round
Lead voice by tevin campbell
Oh yeah
Round and round and round
Round, round
Yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh yeah
Can u tell me where were going 2?
Can u tell me what it is we really want 2 find?
Is the truth really there? or is it right under our hair?
4 all we know its been there all the time.
I say, nothing comes from dreamers but dreams
I say, sitting idle in our boat while everyone else is down the stream
Nothing comes from talkers but sound
We can talk all we want 2, but the world still goes around and round.
Round and round. we go round and round and round.
And what were looking 4 still isnt found
Can u tell me when we gonna get 2 it.
Im tired of fooling around I said I wanna do it. (go 4 it, get 2 it)
I learned my lesson young, I said if want to have fun (go 4 it)
And when u win say, I knew it (go 4 it, get 2 it)
Nothing comes from dreamers but dreams
I say, sitting idle in our boat while everyone else is down the stream
Nothing comes from talkers but sound
We can talk all we want 2, but the world still goes around and round.
Round, round, round, round, round, round
Round and round (get get get get 2 it, go 4 it, get 2 it)
We go round and round and round.
And what were looking 4 still isnt found
1 day Ill make it in the big city
And Ill be looking 4 a girl whos pretty
1 day Ill make a play and she will say ok
cause I plan 2 be a cool kitty
Round and round.
I say, nothing comes from dreamers but dreams
I say, sitting idle in our boat while everyone else is down the stream
Nothing comes from talkers but sound
We can talk all we want 2, but the world still goes around and round.
Round and round. we go round and round and round.
And what were looking 4 still isnt found
Round and round we go. round and round we go.
Round and round and round and round and round and round we go.
Round and round, round and round,
Round and round we go, round and round we go
Round and round.
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brutal
Brutal
Sometimes I feel that you're a part of me,
Although it don't seem real it's how I want it to be
But if you can't stay, then I'll understand
You're just sawdust in my empty hand
If you can't decide I'll still be true
Just open wide; I'm here for you
And if you think that you've found a gentle sound,
Where love breaks down; It's alright.
And if you can't overcome what get's you down,
Don't get uptight; It's alright.
I'm a shallow man in an hollow land
On a beaten track under your command
And the sound in my head goes round and round
Like a drunk on the stairs who just fell down
But now it seems like a distant dream
When it all lived long
Wrong with our love supreme
And the sound in my head goes round and round
Like a drunk on the stairs who just fell down
And if you think that you've found a gentle sound,
Where love breaks down; It's alright.
And if you can't overcome what get's you down,
Don't get uptight; It's alright.
It's alright.
the sound in my head goes round and round
Like a drunk on the stairs who just fell down
And if you think that you've found a gentle sound,
Where love breaks down; It's alright.
And if you can't overcome what get's you down,
Don't get uptight; It's alright.
It's alright
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A New Year's Gift,sent To Sir Simeon Steward
No news of navies burnt at seas;
No noise of late spawn'd tittyries;
No closet plot or open vent,
That frights men with a Parliament:
No new device or late-found trick,
To read by th' stars the kingdom's sick;
No gin to catch the State, or wring
The free-born nostril of the King,
We send to you; but here a jolly
Verse crown'd with ivy and with holly;
That tells of winter's tales and mirth
That milk-maids make about the hearth;
Of Christmas sports, the wassail-bowl,
That toss'd up, after Fox-i'-th'-hole;
Of Blind-man-buff, and of the care
That young men have to shoe the Mare;
Of twelf-tide cakes, of pease and beans,
Wherewith ye make those merry scenes,
Whenas ye chuse your king and queen,
And cry out, 'Hey for our town green!'--
Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use
Husbands and wives by streaks to chuse;
Of crackling laurel, which fore-sounds
A plenteous harvest to your grounds;
Of these, and such like things, for shift,
We send instead of New-year's gift.
--Read then, and when your faces shine
With buxom meat and cap'ring wine,
Remember us in cups full crown'd,
And let our city-health go round,
Quite through the young maids and the men,
To the ninth number, if not ten;
Until the fired chestnuts leap
For joy to see the fruits ye reap,
From the plump chalice and the cup
That tempts till it be tossed up.--
Then as ye sit about your embers,
Call not to mind those fled Decembers;
But think on these, that are t' appear,
As daughters to the instant year;
Sit crown'd with rose-buds, and carouse,
Till LIBER PATER twirls the house
About your ears, and lay upon
The year, your cares, that's fled and gone:
And let the russet swains the plough
And harrow hang up resting now;
And to the bag-pipe all address,
Till sleep takes place of weariness.
And thus throughout, with Christmas plays,
Frolic the full twelve holy-days.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Between The Lines
Verse 1:
Ive been searching
Ive been thinking
Ive been searching so long
What I am looking for
Ive been hearing love will hit you
But everybodys wrong
Cause I just happen to notice
That certain look in your eye
Chorus:
Im reading between the lines
I didnt need no neon signs
To notice baby
I never before had you on my mind
But now I really do
Verse 2:
Nothing major ever happened
But its the greatest feeling Ive ever had
Strong emotions all have left me
Just a tenderness inside my heart
Just happened to notice a knowing smile
Chorus
(now I really do)
Just happened, I noticed
That certain look in your eyes
Im reading between the lines
I didnt need no neon signs
To notice baby
I never before had you on my mind
Im reading between the lines
I didnt need, didnt need no neon
To notice baby
I never before, never before
I knew it, I knew it
Bridge:
Started dreamin about you baby
Now I know just what Im feeling
Can it be you are my baby?
Never gonna let you go
Oh it took so long to feel it
(so very long to feel it)
But it was worth the waiting baby
Never gonna-never gonna let you go
(read between, read between the lines)
Didnt need no neon signs
Oh it took so long to feel it
(so very long to feel it)
But it was worth the waiting baby
(read between, read between the lines)
Didnt need, didnt need, didnt need no neon
(notice baby)
(read between, read between the lines)
I didnt need no neon signs
I knew it, I knew it
(read between, read between the lines)
Between the lines
(read between, read between the lines)
Im reading between the lines....
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To a Sleeping Child
Lips, lips, open!
Up comes a little bird that lives inside
Up comes a little bird, and peeps, and out he flies.
All the day he sits inside, and sometimes he sings,
Up he comes, and out he goes at night to spread his wings.
Little bird, little bird, whither will you go?
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Little bird, little bird, whither do you flee?
Far away around the world, while nobody can see.
Little bird, little bird, how long will you roam?
All round the world and around again home;
Round the round world, and back through the air,
When the morning comes, the little bird is there.
Back comes the little bird and looks and in he flies,
Up wakes the little boy, and opens both his eyes.
Sleep, sleep, little boy, little bird’s away,
Little bird will come again, by the peep of day;
Sleep, little boy, the little bird must go
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Sleep, sleep sound, little bird goes round,
Round and round he goes; sleep, sleep sound.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Round & Round & Round
Round and round and round and round and round we go
Trying so hard to get a hold of everyone here
Weve got to show how much we love them all
We squeak with idiot fake surprise
Flap our hands and flutter our eyes
And lap up all their stupid lies
Weve got to love them all
And I really dont know why we do it like this
Imitation smiles and how its wonderful to be her
Im really not sure what were so scared well mis
So round and round and round and round and round we go
Hanging on every shape they throw
Its strange the way we cant say no
Until we love them all...
So we laugh at every stupid joke
And smoke and choke and point and poke
And gag on countless lines...
How much we love them all!
And I really dont know why we do it like this
Imitation smiles and how its wonderful to be her
Im really not sure what were so scared well mis
Maybe its the sex with the drugs and the fools
Or maybe its the promise of belief?
Maybe its the pleasure and the pain of the cruel
Or maybe its the promise of relief?
And I know that weve said it so many times
once more and never again
But however many times that weve said it before
Once more is never the end...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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